Geena-Maria van Dijk
Bio
Stories (2/0)
Romantic Getaway
We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. The ride up had been quiet. It felt like we were driving into the dead of winter. The air around us felt heavy and the feeling inside me had been cold. When we first found out, it was happy news. But as the weeks passed, happiness turned into anger, she had expressed how much she hated me in her fits, but I always forgave her. Telling myself, she doesn’t mean it, it’s just her condition talking. Her anger eventually turned into depression and the loud noises turned into faint whispers and tears. She pushed everyone away, and when her friends became few, and her family kept their distance, it was my turn. Our relationship crumbled, like a sandcastle build too close to the ocean, everyday it felt like less.
By Geena-Maria van Dijkabout a year ago in Fiction
Fresh Fruit with a Rotten Taste
We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. He wanted some quality time. It was his idea to rent this cabin and drive up the mountain in the middle of nowhere. And yet, here I am driving while he’s asleep in the passenger seat as we traverse this darkest country road. As I was moving forward, I saw brief glimpses of beauty all around me but it all fades into lost memories within seconds. Me, I have never truly been able to really figure out where life begins and where it ends, where I begin and where he ends. Like a snowflake, the memories melt as soon as they touch my skin. I don’t want to think it, but I know there is rot inside me. I don’t even know the man sitting next to me anymore. He’s lost to me. I don’t even know who the father of my child is anymore. Where did this all go wrong for me, why has God forsaken me. I look to the sky and I try to pray. I ask God to bless my mind and fill it with Christian thoughts, but the devil has a strong pull. “Idle hands” as they say, but that doesn’t mean anything at the end of this rope. The umbilical cord around my neck like a noose guiding me up to the burning heavens. Or maybe its just another hot flash. I wonder if my baby is as poisoned with Satan’s seed as my mind has been fondled by his hands. If I crash this car, if I just let go and close my eyes.. Is my baby doomed for hell? Am I the reason for it? Or will it all be forgiven and will this child within me be allowed past the golden gates of his grace.
By Geena-Maria van Dijkabout a year ago in Fiction